100 Themes Challenge
by januarylightsphere
Summary: 100 Themes Challenge. With Lavi/OC. For a proper story with these two characters, please visit my story: Slowly Slipping Away. Thank you.
1. Introduction

**I wanted to do 100 Themes Challenges so here it is. No promise can be made about how regular it will be updated, though. Working on stories about Dominique and Lavi makes my mind fill with them (And yes, I'm back from the dead.) There is not plotline as far as I know... but mostly they will take place in Slowly Slipping Away. **

**So yeah.**

**Disclaimer: I am certainly not Hoshino Katsura.**

Dominique was very wary, she had to be. Because her usual favorite spot had been invaded.

Correction.

She was annoyed, so annoyed that she might throw the cup of coffee she was holding at the person head.

She glared at the young man's back. Unruly red hair. She didn't know any redhead besides General Cross, so it must be the new kid that Lenalee had been so excited to tell her about. What did Lenalee tell her? Yeah, Bookman, mysterious clan. But it didn't give him the rights to claim her favorite spot.

As if feeling her eyes (good, she wanted him to have holes behind his head), the new one turned his head back, and blink his eyes.

_Eye._

Dark green.

Dominique had to blink.

"Oh." He stood up, walking towards her and held out his hands. "Nice to meet you, I am Lavi."

She stared at him oddly before having done with loading the information. (_Damn his eyes). _She mentally scowled. Did she even ask for his name?

"Uhm, it's nice to meet you too." _Certainly not. "_But can you find another seat, this seat is mine." Even Komui didn't dare take that seat.

It was his turn to look at her, before grinning broadly.

"Sorry, I don't know about that. No one told me. Here, have your seat."

The way he was telling it made her feel bad for getting angry at him for something he didn't even know, so she smiled back at him, awkwardly:

"You can have the chair next to me." She said.

"You haven't told me your name yet."

"What?" asked Dominique, intelligently. Lavi was looking at her with hope.

"Er, Dominique, Dominique La Rue."

"So, Nickie." What did he call her? "What kinds of book do you like to read most?"


	2. Love

**Love**

Dominique was desperate for a cup of coffee. Yes, desperate.

The top two buttons of his shirt was undone.

Dominique wondered why the hell she had bothered to look up at him when he had shown up her - _their - _usual table, slightly soaked after his training with Kanda. Of course, she didn't let it bother at first, but he was complaining and she wanted to hit him for interrupting her (very important) reading time. It was when she noticed the two buttons - what kinds of self-respecting female wouldn't when an attractive young man sitting opposite to her with his shirt partially open?

And that ruined her attempt immediately.

Weird situation caused weird thoughts.

A sane Dominique would never want to leap across the table, unbutton more of that damn shirt, thread her hands in Lavi's hair and...

Only an insane Dominique would have that pervert thought and feel her cheeks heating up.

Oh, no.

Scratch that, _fuck. What's wrong with me? _

She had been read the same pages fourth times because of his being unacceptably attractive!

And no, a sane Dominique would never slam a book shut - like she had just done.

Lavi was looking at her questionably. His face looked disturbingly innocent.

"I'm going to get another book." She stood up. Wrong move. She could see down his shirt from where she was standing.

_Come on, Dominique, it's not like you haven't seen anything like that before. His skin is smooth and..._

Dominique hit Lavi on the head.

Definitely, only an insane Dominique would act _pathetic._


	3. Home

**Home**

Bookman had no home - Lavi had been travelling around the world for as long as he could remember, and even before that.

He had no memories of his parents, and he seriously doubted if the old man even knew them. He had always looked sky and wondered what would happen if he died - you had no home, so it wouldn't be strange if you had no place to rest in peace, no one to visit your grave and no one to hold you in their remembrance.

Lavi was sat looking at the Black Order, stretched his arms, his back against the thick tree, the sun was setting and the ground falling into shadows.

His friend, Lenalee, had once told him that the Order would always be her family, her very first home; the first place she would remember being happy, remember belonging, remember being loved and wanted. Lenalee, Lavi knew, always held something about this place dear to her, because she never looked at the bad side of its, Komui was here, Allen was here, everyone she loved was here.

Lavi tried to take her advice. Because he had been moving too much, from one country to another, which made him feel unsettled. Like he didn't really belong anywhere.

Yes, the key word was "tried." The Black Order wasn't where he expected to be.

He loved this place and he was happy there, but he liked China, German and Canada, too - any places he used to go, to be honest.

It just wasn't home.

Perhaps it was one of the Bookman's curse too. You felt no love, therefore no need for a home.

Oh, he had plenty of places to eat, to live, to laugh, but it wasn't home.

Then he saw her, rushed to him, and felt himself form a tiny smile.

"It's time for dinner." She said after stopping abruptly next to him (she must have realized that she had been walking a little too fast towards him.) "I... Lenalee was looking for you. Why are you brooding here?"

"I'm not brooding. Just thinking."

"You should come inside. It's cold, and you haven't taken a break after your mission ..." She trailed off, probably knowing that she sounded so caring. He didn't speak, neither did she.

"Well, I've read a bit about the history of Canada, there is something I can't understand, canyouexplaintome?" Her voice was getting smaller and smaller.

"It's my pleasure." He grinned.

"So... let's have dinner and then go to library?"

"Whatever you want, Nickie." And instead of looking at the tower, he looked at her.

Home, Lavi decided, wasn't necessarily a place.

Home was a person, a person you could belong with, not a place you belong in. It was a person that made you feel happy anywhere, at home anywhere, be anywhere, as long as you were with them.

Home for him, he decided, was Dominique.


	4. Coping

**A/N: Sorry for the grammar mistakes. **

**Coping.**

* * *

><p>Her eyes flicked open, and she'd sat up and employed some Kanda's choicest swear words before she was fully awake. It was dark, and Dominique almost fell a headache coming - she'd never fallen asleep without the light, a habit that Lavi didn't approve at all. Dominique sighed and laid back down. She'd had the dream again. The dream in which Lavi stood, teasing, talking to her, making her explode. The dream in which he was here, all smiling and lively. The dream where Noah didn't exist.<p>

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. It had been almost three months since his being captured, and she'd thought she was coping with it, handling it, and... well, getting over it - she had tried her best, she was pretty sure about it. And now she was dreaming of him, so vivid that waking up felt like another loss.

(Dominique told herself: the wound was raw, yes, but it was healing, Allen was somewhere in the world, avoiding getting caught, and Akuma and Noah were still out there, and she had friend to worry, and Lavi... Lavi wouldn't want her to sit in the dark, grieving him - damn, he was still alive! Still, she felt guilty for letting herself be happy.)

She must have been too tired. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have reminded herself of what she'd lost.

And, almost as bad as reliving that lost everytime, was the way it left her after. She became paranoid. Her gaze flickered automatically around the room, her hands lifted to her cutlass, just to make sure that she was safe. It angered her, really, because losing the sense of safety wasn't what Dominique La Rue should have had. And what angered her more than anything else was that she wanted to keep dreaming those dreams again, to spend time with him.

She laid back down, almost fell back to sleep, and something sounded painfully like Lavi's voice told her not to be afraid of the darkness for he was always by her side. Always, Dominique decided, was the worst lie.

And as she slipped back into sleep, she saw Lavi's face, smiling tenderly and he was saying: "Goodnight."


	5. Acceptance

**Acceptance.**

* * *

><p>"I think I might be in love with you, Lavi"<p>

And his heart thundered violently inside of his chest, his nerves shook and throbbed and shuttered electrically, and he had to look at her in the eyes - grey like storms, dark and stifling and straightforward, as if daring him to object to her.

It was such a Dominique way of confessing.

She waited for him patiently, with her arms crossing and eyes never left his, and everything was still and suffocating and Lavi had never known anything like that (Damn, the old man was going to skin him alive.) It was thrillingly beautiful and chillingly cold, a connection on the verge of being. They were in a war and love could hold them back and got them distracted and...

She was still looking at him, grey eyes daring and sparkling.

Oh, to be young and poised on the edge of everything - Innocence and Akuma, God and human, Noah and Exorcists, war and peace, living and dying, fighting and moving and giving in -

He found his voice.

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>They're getting shorter and shorter. <strong>


	6. Fragile

**Fragile**

* * *

><p>She is certainly not fragile. That word - <em>fragile - <em>doesn't have its place in her dictionary. She doesn't know how it is to be fragile. She is never good at fragile thing.

Fragile, she decides, is a vague term.

Dominique is certain that she isn't fragile.

She is strong (_deadly even), _with hard eyes and jaw that permanently set in determination. She is seventeen (_so young), _daring (_reckless) _with wit and bravery and skills. (_with secretly trembling hands and quivering knees and a well-placed mask.) _Emotion is something she pretends doesn't come easy to her, except, except -

Finger brushing her cheeks and a mouth whispering. "Loosen up, Nickie. I'm by your side." then a (_wonderful) _laughter and red hair that she can recognize everywhere she goes tickling her skin. Dark forest green eye stares down at her (_and a 'what really happened to your eye?' that remaining unsaid in her throat) - _

Dominique doesn't know 'fragile.'

She is not fragile, but oh, can she break. (_into pieces and become a whole again.)_


	7. Red

**Red.**

* * *

><p>Of all things he can give her, he always chooses hair tie, a whitest of white ribbon, much to her dismay. She dislikes it and has considered throwing it away for several times, but Lavi's smiling face comes across her mind each time, so she decides to keep it. It's impolite to discard a gift, after all.<p>

But, honestly, a white ribbon, is he kidding her? The color means purity, beauty and innocence, all the things she doesn't have. You can't have them in this war. Your purity is lost, your beauty means death to your enemies and your innocence - _Innocence - _is your weapon.

No one has time to crave for something like that.

She wears it, anyway, because it stops Lavi from whining and asking her if she doesn't like his gift.

And as time passes (those dreadful fights), the ribbon grows stain, just like her, just like him. Stained with sweats, tears, dirt, and mostly, blood.

It's no longer white, it's red, a reminder of all things she has to bear on her shoulders.

The red fades eventually, and she feels bad for wishing it didn't. Faded red doesn't remind her of his hair anymore.

Faded red is like he's disappearing from her life.


	8. Fall

**Disclaimer: I do not own D-Gray Man, Hoshino does. I only have Dominique.**

**Fall**

* * *

><p>Dominique is somewhat recalcitrant, of course. She's not really used to being hugged or having to endure physical contact for any prolonged amount of time, hasn't been covered herself with aloofness for a long time, but it still annoys him a little when she tries to pull away when he hugs him, as if he's holding a knife and tearing her flesh.<p>

What bothers him more, however, is when Dominique doesn't try to beat the crap out of him for hugging her.

However lean Dominique may seem, she always feels heavy when she lets Lavi hug her and doesn't wriggle out of his grip, likes her body have turned into lead. Tired and weary, letting someone lead him to her room instead of trying to stand on her own as she always does. He knows she tries to heal herself, too, and the head nurse is furious upon knowing that.

Both of them have learn how to keep themselves (each other) upright – it's necessary, it's the only human thing either of them can do. They're living in dark days, with both the war happening outside and the one in their mind and both are in a desperate need of support.

Dominique has always been strong, reliable. She doesn't show the weaker side of her emotions easily, and Lavi's learned how to deal with that too.

But he can see it, he can notice every little thing about her, the way her eyebrows frown, the way her eyes darken, the way she leans in to him, tired and weary and leaden, Lavi starts to wonder how long she's been ready to fall, and how long it will take her – and him, too – to fall.

He hopes that at least they will fall together.


	9. Best(est)

**disclaimer: i can't even draw. **

**This chapter is purely crack because there is no way Lavi can be bad at grammar as me.**

* * *

><p>"I'm the bestest." Laughing.<p>

"For someone who is full of knowledge, your vocabulary is horrible." Distastefully.

"I'm still the bestest." Still laughing.

"It's not even a word." Getting annoyed.

"Don't you think I'm the bestest, Nickie?" Teasing.

"No, I don't think you're the bestest, as you express it." Deadpaned.

"But I thought you love me!" Genuinely surprised.

"..."

"Nickie?"

"..."

"Dominique?"

"What?" Scowling.

"Do you love me?" Serious.

"What kind of question is that?" Flushed. "Of course I do."

"Yes, I know. I love me, too." Proud.

"Yes, of course you do."

"I'm the bestest."

* * *

><p><strong>notes: okay, it's for the sake of humour, not mean anything serious. <strong>


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